


Waiting for Heads to Roll

by Goldy



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:11:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose on death row.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting for Heads to Roll

Rose knew she’d messed up. Getting thrown in jail, landing herself on death row—it didn’t get much worse than that.

She just… she wished the Doctor would smile at her or tell her they’d find a way out—or even _look_ at her. Anything was better than stony silence.

“Doctor?”

He craned his neck around to shoot her an impatient look and then returned to what he was doing. Which was, at the moment, holding the sonic screwdriver up to a wall made out of five feet of concrete. They’d probably have more luck breaking themselves out with plastic knives and forks.

“Look—” she said. “I’m _sorry_ , okay? I was stupid.”

No response. She wished he would turn around and yell at her. They could work things out that way. Her first Doctor would have yelled at her. At least then she knew he still cared.

“I thought… I thought he needed our help,” Rose continued. “Thought it’d be something you would’ve done. I didn’t know we’d end up as accomplices.”

The sonic screwdriver shut off and Rose paused hopefully, but the Doctor only shifted positions and started in again.

“Fine,” she muttered. “Go on, then. Real mature.”

She turned away, fighting tears. Their cell was rocky and damp, with a brown toilet in one corner, and a tiny, lumpy bed pressed along one side.

She went to sit on the bed, fingers fudging at her knees. _Right, deep breath_ , she reminded herself. _Been in worse than this._

Death row—all right, so it was a little… scarier than their usual adventures, but Rose was certain the Doctor would find a way out of it.

Even if he concocted an entire plan without speaking to her.

The Doctor paused and stood up, one of his palms smacking against the concrete wall. He breathed in heavily, and then turned around to look at her, despair so clear that Rose felt a tightening in her chest.

“It’s no use,” he said.

Rose jumped. “Oh, sorry. Are you speaking to me now?”

He tried for a smile, but it fell flat. “We’re really… stuck.”

“There’s gotta be a way,” Rose said, momentarily forgetting her own irritation with him. “Something we haven’t tried yet.”

She saw hope flash in his eyes, but then he shook his head. “Even if we could find a way out, this entire place is lined with guards, top to bottom. They’d kill us on the spot.”

Rose held his gaze. “We just… got to keep our heads, Doctor.”

He winced. “Oh, don’t say that— _really_ don’t. Given our circumstances…”

“Oh, shut up,” Rose said, narrowing her eyes. “You’re the one who knows everything, Doctor. And you’re being about as helpful as a sack of potatoes.”

He scrubbed one hand across his chin. “I’m sorry. I just…”

He looked at her helplessly, and Rose sighed, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah.”

He pocketed the sonic screwdriver and took a seat next to her. Several springs creaked ominously from the extra weight.

“Not the… nicest place I’ve ever been jailed in,” he said. “Bit drab, innit? Very… French Revolution—which, speaking of heads rolling…”

“Well, could be worse,” Rose said lightly. “Least you’ve got me.”

He gave her a sidelong look, fond smile brightening his face. He wrapped one arm across her shoulders and pulled her in close. They fell back on the bed, giggling.

“Oi, watch it,” Rose said, elbowing him in the side, but she grinned. It was better like this—letting him hold her. Made things better.

Rose rested her ear on his chest, smiling at the double thump of his two hearts. His fingers slid through her hair, and then he rested his hand on her back, lowering his chin to rest on the top of her head.

For a moment, they lay quietly. Rose closed her eyes, soothed by the warmth of his body.

When he spoke, his voice was deeper than before. “Six hours until sunrise… it’s barely even enough time to blink.”

Rose opened her eyes, and tilted her chin up to look at him. “Not for a fruit fly, it isn’t. Almost an entire life. Besides, six hours with you beats a lifetime with anybody else.”

He stared at her like he couldn’t quite believe she was real. His arm tightened around her back.

“You just had to interfere, Rose Tyler, didn’t you? Couldn’t leave things well enough alone.”

“If I’d known…” she trailed off, seeing the dubious look on his face. “I probably would’ve done exactly the same.”

“Hmm,” he agreed. “And now, here we are.” He made a face. “And beheading’s _really_ not the most dignified way to go out.”

Rose shivered at the thought, burying closer to the Doctor. “Seems so surreal, doesn’t it? Our last few hours together. All that time… I thought it would never end.”

“Everything ends,” said the Doctor. “Just a question of when.”

Rose shifted, rising slightly so she could look him in the eyes. “Doctor, I…” she trailed off and bowed her head. Why was it that something that should have come so naturally was so difficult to say?

He touched her cheek and turned her face back to his. His smile was sad. He knew. Of course he knew.

“If—if these really our last few hours together,” Rose started cautiously, ignoring the burning in her face. “Maybe we could—I dunno—”

She watched him hopefully, and he blinked a few times. “Oh—” he said, startled. The hand on her back drifted lower, and Rose felt goosebumps break out along her arms. “I suppose… given that we really _will_ be beheaded come morning…”

Rose moved closer to him, eyes on his lips, but he spoke again, “No.”

Rose pulled up short. “No?”

“No,” he repeated. And then he broke out into a grin. “No, Rose Tyler. We’re going to find a way out of here. You know why?”

“Why?” Rose managed, somewhere between disappointment and renewed optimism.

He turned serious again and held her eyes. “I can’t watch you die.”

Her cheeks warmed under his intense gaze, but she smiled bravely at him. “Knew you’d come to that decision eventually.”

He released her and rolled off the bed, bouncing to his feet. “Come on, then. Options. What have we got?”

Rose sat up, watching him. “The sonic screwdriver.”

“Nope,” said the Doctor. “Useless on concrete. What else?”

Rose thought and then looked up at him. “The TARDIS.”

“The…” the Doctor trailed off. “Yes, the TARDIS. Of _course_. She’s a sentient being. We’ve got both our keys, don’t we?”

Rose nodded. "No batteries, though."

"Oh, come on, Rose. More than one way for a Time Lord to summon his ship. If I could just find… something—something to draw the proper symbol on the floor. Haven’t used it in a while, but if I can remember… might just work.” The Doctor looked around. His eyes lit up at the broken pieces of rocks lining the floor. “Things are coming together, Rose. One piece at a time.”

Then he closed the distance between them, took her face between both hands and kissed her. Rose was so surprised, it took her a moment to react. Then she closed her eyes, and kissed him back, figuring she might as well enjoy it.

He pulled away, but held his face near hers. Warm breath tickled along her chin.

“Ready to do this?”

He held out a hand.

“Always,” she said, fingers sliding between his.  



End file.
